


Slytherin's Heiresses

by Disenchantress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Parent Voldemort, Slytherin's Heir, Slytherin's Heiresses, Voldemort Has Kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5743444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disenchantress/pseuds/Disenchantress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Voldemort's quest for immortality continued even beyond his creation of horcruxes. One of his efforts required the use of a child of his own bloodline, and so just before the end of the first wizarding war, he made it his mission to create a suitable one. This is the story of Tom Riddle's two daughters, set in the background of Harry's years at Hogwarts. Half what if and half what just might have been unseen beyond Harry's limited narrative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family History

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote long ago but never finished publishing, so if you ever saw the original around under my old pseud, expect some similar content with much better writing than my teenage self could deliver. The idea still seems as cliched as ever, but I swear there's a real AU plot once you get far enough in for it to be introduced.

The summer before they would be eleven years old on September first was usually the most exciting for young witches and wizards. For Lyndotia Elumo, it was the most terrifying.

It wasn’t that she was worried she wasn’t a witch; her mum still laughed when she told the story of how Lyn had, at the age of six, become so angry with her little sister that she’d turned Vi’s skin green and it had taken two charms, a counterjinx, and a potion to set her right.. It wasn’t that she was afraid her little sister wouldn’t follow her to school, either; Vi had learned at a young age it was much more fun to jump on the bed if she could bounce off the ceiling and walls too. It wasn’t even that Lyn thought she would miss her family too terribly to go, though of course she would. Lyndotia Elumo’s greatest fear at the age of eleven was rooted in a secret that would have terrified nearly any witch or wizard.

“If someone asks why you don’t _look_ like Vi or me?” Anja Umbra asked, cutting into Lyn’s thoughts. She had been asking these questions all morning in preparation for the trip to Diagon Alley, getting more and more specific each time.

“I-I’m adopted,” said Lyn simply.

“Then if they want to know why your surname is different?” Ms. Umbra pressed.

“I have my birth mum’s last name,” Lyn answered as Ms. Umbra rewrapped the scarf around her daughter’s neck more securely, nodding encouragement as she did.

“Good. And why do you live with us then?”

“She was your best friend,” came the answer this time, and Lyn licked her lips nervously as she tried to remember the details of their cover story. “She… she helped you learn English when you moved here? And she had no family and you were my godmother, so - so I came to live with you.”

“Very good,” said Ms. Umbra with a tight-lipped smile that couldn’t quite drive the worry from her eyes. The moment of hesitation was nearly tangible before she asked quietly, “And your father?”

“I never knew him,” Lyn replied in a whisper so that her voice wouldn’t shake.

“Perfect, perfect; nice and simple, not even a lie,” Ms. Umbra said approvingly, brushing her daughter’s hair up from beneath the scarf. Abruptly she pulled the girl in for a hug, but not before Lyn saw the tears starting in her mother’s eyes. “Lastochka, how big you’ve grown, and how quickly!”

Lyn wrapped her arms around her mother in return, trying hard not to cry too. But she couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice as she whispered, “Mum, what if… what if someone finds out?”

“Don’t be silly,” said Ms. Umbra firmly, kissing the top of Lyn’s head and donning a reassuring smile. “The only souls in this world that know are the three of us and Dumbledore, and he wouldn’t have sent you that letter if he was afraid you would be your father, now would he?”

Lyn gave her best brave smile and nodded, and Ms. Umbra gave her another squeeze before rushing off to find out why Vi wasn’t ready to leave, but the smile fell as soon as Lyn was left alone.

What would her real mother have said today? No matter how hard Lyn tried, she couldn’t remember Letaira Elumo, and it stung more than she would admit that she couldn’t even picture a soothing smile. Not that she didn’t love the woman she had come to call her mum, not that she didn’t know she was lucky to have her, but today was one of those days that Lyn ached for her birth mother, and no matter how many times she told herself it was silly, she couldn’t stop it.

It wasn’t fair, and that was the worst part of it. Letaira Elumo had come to Britain to _live_ , not to die. Lyn liked to imagine her mother’s bravery, transferring from the safety of America overseas to the Ministry in London at the height of You-Know-Who’s power, hoping she could make a difference in the war. But the truth was Lyn had no idea of her mother’s motivations, and she never would. Lord Voldemort had seen to that.

Like so many talented witches and wizards at the time, Letaira Elumo had been murdered by the Dark Lord. But what made her so truly exceptional was that she had borne him a daughter first.

No one knew _why_ Voldemort had chosen the young witch or exactly what he had wanted with her, but it was clear that the child figured into his plans in some way. Unfortunately, the mother did not; Lord Voldemort killed her just before Lyndotia’s first birthday.

Here, the story began to become a tiny bit more clear. Whatever his reasons, after killing Letaira, Voldemort had sent the baby Lyndotia into the care of one of his followers and then begun his quest again.

The second time, his target was Anja Umbra, a Russian-born auror set to begin teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. She never made it to the school.

When Anja began to steal moments of clarity from the powerful Imperius Curse he had used to imprison her, she caught occasional whispers that the Dark Lord had plans for which he needed an heir. And when Lord Voldemort fell on that fateful Halloween he had killed Lily and James Potter, Anja Umbra awoke to find herself caring for a nearly two-year-old little girl, and with child herself.

Terrified and uncertain of how much time had passed, Anja fled to the only person she knew that could have offered help: Albus Dumbledore. And when the two of them had pieced together what happened as well as they could, it was Dumbledore who had advised Anja to bring up the girls in secret, somewhere none of them could be recognized.

Ms. Umbra had done exactly that, settling down outside a village with very few magical neighbors where they had done their best to blend in. It was easier with Muggles, because Anja could just Confund them if she occasionally mixed up the name of her supposed former husband. At Hogwarts though, Lyn and Vi would be both away from her protection and responsible for keeping their stories straight on their own.

Lyn was a little ashamed to admit it, but part of her was glad Vi wouldn’t be going to Hogwarts with her for another couple of years. Not because she didn’t love her sister, but because Vi was still at the problematic age where she had a hard time focusing or taking things seriously. What if she made a joke about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on the platform? Merlin, what if she made that kind of joke _in Diagon Alley?!_

“Ready!” Vi announced, bounding down the hall to the family room like she had springs in her feet. Lyn looked at her little sister, who looked so like Ms. Umbra with her black hair and dark eyes, and wondered if anyone _would_ question them in London today. Both girls were pale but Vi’s face was round where Lyn’s was longer and thinner; and while Lyn’s dark brown hair might pass as close enough to black, her eyes were blue, framed by dark limbal rings that just made them look brighter. Perhaps, Lyn thought despite the shudder it gave her to think the words, people might just assume she looked more like her father.

“Finally,” Ms. Umbra said as she whisked into the room with a smile. Lyn managed a smile too, reminding herself that it was silly of her to worry yet. She still had her mum with her, and though this would be the first time she had been allowed free rein of Diagon Alley, she took the pot of floo powder off the mantle with a lighter heart. After all, today—and she felt her heart leap at the thought—she was shopping for her first year at Hogwarts!


	2. Common and Uncommon

“Your vault today, Ms. Umbra?” asked the Gringotts goblin politely, once they had exchanged greetings. Anja worked at the bank, and looking around at the huge building full of mostly less-than-friendly-looking goblins, Lyn wasn’t entirely sure she managed that.

“No,” said Ms. Umbra, as much to her daughters’ surprise as to the goblin’s. “316 today, if you please. Elumo, my daughter’s.”

“Of course,” agreed the goblin, inclining his head toward her. Lyn didn’t question this until the cart began moving.

“I have my own vault?”

“It was your mother’s,” Ms. Umbra said with a nod, fishing in her bag for something. “Your mother was an auror, I’m told, so there was a fair bit of gold in it already, but I’ve added more when I could for school... Ah, here’s the key for it, lastochka; it’s yours now.”

Lyn nearly dropped the tiny gold key as the cart lurched, but saved it just in time. As it glistened between her fingers, only a little tarnished, she tried to imagine her mother holding the same key, but only seemed to be able to picture an older version of herself instead.

After filling the coinpurse that had been her Christmas gift from Anja’s parents in Russia, Lyn was silent the entire return trip. Vi began to pout by the time they reached the surface again, certain she was being ignored and demanding ice cream for the indignity.

Ms. Umbra finally gave in with a sigh after Vi stamped along the length of Diagon Alley and knocked over a display of books outside the apothecary. Assuring Lyn they would be right back, Ms. Umbra pointed toward Madam Malkin’s and Ollivander’s and instructed her daughter not to wander too far from those shops if she finished before they returned.

Lyn entered Madam Malkin’s first, feeling distinctly more nervous but excited again, too. She hadn’t been allowed to do much alone before except look after Vi inside the locked-up house or walk to the playground down the street. And now she was in a magical shop with a bag of galleons and sickles all on her own!

“First year?” the shopwitch asked with a smile when the bell over the door announced Lyn’s arrival. Lyn barely had time to nod before the witch had her standing on a footstool and nearly knocked her nose off pulling a set of uniform black robes over her head.

Just to Lyn’s right, a rosy-cheeked girl with a long blonde braid giggled from inside her half-finished robes. “I don’t think she noticed,” the girl whispered. “I think she’s been busy, with the letters being delivered today.”

“Are you a first year, too?” Lyn asked curiously.

The girl nodded, grinning broadly now. “Hannah Abbott. Nice to meet you!”

“Lyn Elumo; you, too.”

“Are you as excited as I am?” Hannah asked abruptly, teetering in her enthusiasm until the witch pinning up her robes had to hold her still, but Hannah didn’t seem to notice. “I just had to come as soon as I got the letter! I’ve been waiting for mine for _ages_ , ever since my cousin Christopher got his!”

“I’ll be the first in my family,” said Lyn, deciding not to count the father she couldn’t name. “My mother was from the US.”

“Ooh, really! I’ve never met anyone from there! What’s their school like?”

Lyn’s suddenly found herself unable to meet Hannah’s brightly expectant gaze. “I… I don’t really know. She died when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said softly, her smile dimming for a moment as she cast around for another topic. “So do you know the houses, then? Which one do you want to be in?”

This was something else Lyn had been dreading, though she hadn’t admitted it out loud yet: the Sorting. Anja, she knew, had been a Ravenclaw, and Dumbledore had said the boy Voldemort had been a Slytherin. And Lyn knew nothing about American schools of magic or whether they even had houses at all.

“I don’t know,” Lyn finally admitted, and Hannah nodded understandingly.

“It must be harder, being the first to go. Maybe you’ll be in Hufflepuff with me!”

Lyn looked astonished. “You already know you’ll be in Hufflepuff?”

Hannah giggled. “Well, no one really _knows_ until the Sorting, but my parents were. It’s usually the same, in families.”

That brought Lyn up short, and while she continued making small talk with Hannah while their robes were fitted, it was with slightly less enthusiasm than before. Anja Umbra wasn’t her real mother, Lyn reminded herself; so the only family history she had at Hogwarts would be Slytherin.

Lyn was only jolted out of wondering whether she would end up having a house in common with her mother’s killer when a pair of luminous silver eyes appeared out of the darkness in Ollivander’s and she leapt as if shocked.

“My, my, aren’t you a curious one,” said the man softly. “Muggle-born, perhaps? But no, you’re all alone…”

“Er—Mr… Mr. Ollivander?” Lyn guessed cautiously.

At once, the old man seemed to recall his manners and smiled at her most politely. “Yes, my dear. And who might you be?”

“I’m Lyn,” she answered hesitantly. “That is, Lyndotia Elumo.”

“Curious,” Mr. Ollivander muttered again, looking her over like she was a puzzle piece he was having difficulty finding a place for. “Clearly a witch’s name, yes? Were your parents from abroad, perhaps?”

“Er, from the US, yes,” Lyn said, deciding not to go into family history when he seemed to be only interested in her name anyway.

“Oh, I see,” said the wandmaker, smiling and nodding, then abruptly presenting her with a boxed wand as if he had been waiting for the answer to this mystery first.

Lyn took it up out of the box, but nearly as soon as she had raised it, Mr. Ollivander snatched it away again, muttering to himself. Extremely nonplussed, Lyn took the next as well but nearly the same thing happened again, and continued to happen at least a half dozen more times before a crease began to appear between her eyebrows.

Was he having her on? Though it would doubtless seem a fine joke to some to have her try dozens of wands and then declare she was fit for none of them, Ollivander didn’t strike her as the kind of wizard to make light of his work. Did he have no idea which wand to sell her until she picked it up?

Ollivander murmured a “Hmm,” his huge, pale eyes seeming to watch her closely for a moment before he snatched up another box from a shelf one row across.

This time as soon as Lyn’s fingers touched the wood, it _felt_ different. Something like electricity, more powerful but more gentle than a static charge, danced across her fingertips. She vaguely wondered if her hair was standing on end. Then all thought was chased from her mind as the wand began emitting a cloud of silver sparks that hovered in the air before her, reflecting the light filtering in through the window like so much glitter.

“Spectacular,” Ollivander praised her with the faintest of smiles. There was something like satisfaction in his misty eyes as he vanished the silver sparks with a wave of his own wand. “Cedar and unicorn hair, eleven inches; pliable. An interesting wand, indeed.”

Lyn hesitated until he had taken the wand back to re-box it before asking, “Interesting how, sir?”

Ollivander’s smile stretched ever so slightly. He did not answer immediately though, accepting her payment of seven galleons before pressing the wand into her hand and beginning to speak very slowly.

“The wand that chooses a witch bespeaks much of her character, Miss Elumo. ‘You will never fool the cedar carrier,’ my father would say. It is an uncommon and loyal wand that has chosen you, and that tells me you are likely also uncommonly clearsighted and true to those that are true to you. A most fortunate yet unfortunate circumstance, to see things as they are, wouldn’t you say?”

Lyn shifted uncomfortably, but though she smiled and agreed with him, she left the shop quickly after that. Ollivander’s evaluation of her rang in her ears for some time, even after Vi and Ms. Umbra caught up to her just outside the shop.

At the end of the day, even as she climbed back into the fireplace with the heavy weight of her new cat purring contentedly around her shoulders, Lyn still wasn’t sure whether Ollivander had been saying she would judge well before deciding her loyalties… or that she would come to see through those she trusted in time.


End file.
